


However much I'm falling down

by my_deer_friend



Series: Pictures of you [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Lams - Freeform, M/M, References to Depression
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-31
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:15:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24470419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/my_deer_friend/pseuds/my_deer_friend
Summary: Well, shit. Alex is going to miss John's birthday - again.--A fluffy-angsty story full of guilt and sweetness.
Relationships: Alexander Hamilton/John Laurens
Series: Pictures of you [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1791655
Comments: 20
Kudos: 102





	However much I'm falling down

**Author's Note:**

> TW: Mentions of depression.

“What do you mean you don’t have - sorry, John, hold on a second - what do you mean you don’t have anything leaving? Not a single flight?”

Alexander has planted himself at the SouthWest counter, his phone wedged between his ear and shoulder, his passport and now-invalid ticket in one hand and his satchel in the other.

Around him, the departures hall of SeaTac is deafening with the sound of thousands of people milling around in anxious chaos. The departure boards flash red, announcing cancellations to just about all destinations on the East Coast. The airline helpdesk operator looks at him with a mixture of pity and annoyance. 

“There’s a squall, sir. Over the midwest. The planes can’t fly through it. Now, if you would only-”

Alex is barely listening. “Look, sure, I get that I can’t fly to New York. But, I dunno, D.C.? That’s close enough. Even, er, even Richmond?”

“All of those flights are cancelled too, sir. The closest I can get you is Tampa-” she types rapidly, “-but that’s only going to delay you even more getting home considering the possible connecting flights. I know this is not ideal, but  _ please _ take a voucher and wait for the announcement.” She raises her eyebrows in polite dismissal. If Alex hasn’t managed to crack her yet, then she’s good, and he respects that. Seeing that no lesser force that the very weather is against him, he surrenders.

“Um. Thanks. Sorry. I know it’s not your fault.”

“Not at all, sir,” she says with bland politeness, already waving the next customer forward as Alex shuffles away under the weight of his belongings.

“Well, fuck,” he says to himself.

“Alex?” 

The voice in his ear startles him, reminding him that John is still on the line.

Alex groans. “No luck. Not a single flight. John - I’m so sorry.”

“Are you okay?” John sounds concerned.

“What? Me? Yes, fine, fine. I mean, pissed off and tired and fuck it’s cold in Seattle, but I’m good. I just-” He takes a deep breath, dumps his satchel and coat in a pile on a hard metal bench and drops down next to it, pulling his luggage closer. “I promised.” His voice comes out pathetically small. He tries again. “I promised to make it back in time. And now I’m going to miss your birthday  _ again _ .”

John laughs dismissively. “Alex, it’s fine. I don’t care. Besides, I’m not the one stuck at the airport.”

But Alex knows John isn’t being completely honest, knows he has been looking forward to celebrating his birthday. Alex had it all planned out too - he’d actually taken the day off from work, planned activities for the whole day, stashed some of John’s favourite chocolate at home to enjoy with a movie on the couch. And then, well, Alex had a pretty good idea of where the night would go from there.

In their ten years together, Alex has missed more than an excusable number of John’s birthdays. If he’s honest, most of those times were selfish reasons - Alex had something more important to do and John had always let him prioritise his own goals. Moron that he is, it had taken Alex nine and a half of those ten years to figure that out. So this was meant to be the big one - the one time he proved to John how important  _ he _ was, that he really was the centre of Alex’s world even though it didn’t always look that way.

And, of course, he’s fucked that up to. He could have turned down this trip, told his boss he couldn’t fly out to see the client in person -  _ but _ . 

But it had been a big deal that Alex was chosen to go. 

But Alex hadn’t wanted to risk the assignment by trying to shift the meeting out.

But the timing should still have just about allowed him to get back in time. 

But - and this is the big one - there is also the unspoken matter that John’s mood always dips when the season changes toward winter. It happens like clockwork, no matter what they’ve tried in the past, and it’s one of the few things in his life that Alex can’t just  _ fix _ . So this is always a delicate time of year, and Alex is bad at walking on eggshells around his partner. If he is really, truly honest, John is always so down at this time of year that a night or two away from home is just  _ easier _ . Gives him a breather.

Which, of course, he also feels guilty about. 

And now there is no escaping it. Alex has messed up big time.

“Alex?”

John is still there, sounding expectant.

“Sorry. What did you say?”

“I was just asking if they’re giving you a room for the night?”

Alex hasn’t even thought of that. He looks at the voucher in his hand which confirms that, yes, he is being put up at the airport hotel.

“Yeah. It’s all sorted. Doesn’t matter, I could sleep on this shitty chair if I needed to. If I can sleep at all. Speaking of which,” Alex takes his phone away from his ear for a second to check the time, “It’s 10pm here, which makes it, what? John, it’s one in the morning, you should be in bed!” 

The realisation explains why John sounds so tired. “I wanted to hear what was happening with you before I turned in.” There’s a big yawn across the line. “Send me a message as soon as you hear something.” 

“I’ll message you in the morning,” Alex counters.

“ _ Alex _ . As soon as you hear. Promise?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he grumbles in reply. Then, “Fuck! John. It’s your birthday.”

There’s a pause. “Oh, yeah, right! Though it only feels like it’s properly your birthday when you wake up in the morning, you know? Wish me then.”

“Ha. Sure. I get ya.”

“Okay. Well, I’m off to bed. Good luck.”

“I love you,” Alex says, and it comes out more seriously than he intends. “Even though I have a shitty way of showing it.”

Another pause. “I know. Love you too. Don’t worry. Just get home soon.”

“Okay. Night night.”

“Sleep tight.” 

John hangs up. Alex drops his head into his hands, still clutching his phone, and sighs in frustration. 

It’s not like he’s  _ trying _ to let John down. It just seems to keep happening.

***

By the time Alex sweet-talks his way to the top of the waiting list, grabs a limp sandwich from the only remaining open cafeteria and staggers up to his hotel room, it’s after midnight. He battles between keeping his promise to John and letting him sleep, and eventually just sends a short message with an update. 

He gets out of his by-now stale work clothes and climbs under the crisp, sterile white sheets of the hotel bed. It’s perfectly neat and clean, and he’s slept in tons of hotels, but tonight the room feels unusually cold and empty. Guilt and frustration gnaw away at him.

He pulls his laptop to him and gets to work.

He sends an email to change the dinner booking to three people and messages Laf and Herc to give them the details. They will be at the bar too, so he asks them to corral the rest of their friends and to get John anything he wants, on him.

He texts Eliza if she can make it to brunch - with her freelance work, she’s a bit more flexible - and then messages Martha, John’s sister, to make sure Henry calls in the middle of brunch so that John can keep the call as short as politely possible. Thank god the gift is already wrapped and stashed away. Finally, he places an order for a giant bunch of sunflowers to arrive first thing.

Satisfied that he’s done all he can from a distance, Alex sends his boss a quick update on what’s happened, changes his leave request to a day later, then closes the laptop and falls, almost instantly, into a deep and dreamless sleep.

***

Alex wakes to a loud, unfamiliar ringing and starts up, momentarily disoriented. It’s the hotel phone. He lifts the receiver.

“Six am wake-up call, sir!” says a cheery voice.

“Fuck,” he groans, his heart racing. “Er. I mean, thanks.”

Why did he ask to be woken at this godforsaken hour? 

The answer hits him with a burst of anxiety, though he quickly remembers he’s timed this in among the plans he made for John’s day. 

He roots around for his phone. There are confirmations from Laf and Eliza, and there’s a reply from John to his first message at 4am (though Alex recalculates this to 7am New York time - so he didn’t wake John up after all, thank god). There’s also a photo of the sunflowers.

_ > John: They’re lovely! Thank you! <3 <3 <3 _

Alex dials.

“No, you’re lovely,” he says as soon as John picks up. He hears a laugh.

“Good morning.”

“Happy birthday. Love you.”

“Thanks!” John sounds cheery, and Alex suspects it’s because their friends have been bombarding him with wishes all morning, which was another thing Alex just remembered he had asked them to do weeks ago - even going so far as to send a meeting invite as a reminder.

“Eliza’s going to be there in an hour to take you to brunch. Laf’s going to fetch you at six.”

“Ah, wow, okay. Did you set that up?”

“Well, the idea was for me to take you but…” Alex waves at the room around him, belatedly realising John can’t see him. “I’m going to make this up to you like you  _ won’t believe _ .”

“Really. It’s fine! Just wish you were home.”

“Rest assured that I - and the national aviation authorities - are working on making that happen as soon as possible. You’ll get your birthday wish if I can help it, John Laurens.”

“If anyone can do it, it’s you, Alex.”

“Not gonna let some stupid snow stand between me and my gorgeous lover.”

“Alex…”

“I’d come on foot if that wouldn’t take me five hundred years given my current level of fitness.”

“I know.”

“You better go get ready, not that you need to be any more beautiful. In fact, maybe ruffle your hair up and put some dirt on your face, since I’m not there to beat the boys off with a stick-”

“Alex!” John chides, but there is laughter in his voice.

“Fine, fine. Just don’t blame me if you get ravished the minute you step outside.”

“How about you go figure out your flight and we’ll leave Eliza to do the stick-swinging?”

“Excellent plan. Damn, you can’t be the smart one too… What would I have left to offer?”

“God, you’re the worst. Send me updates!”

“Yes, yes. Have I said I love you yet?”

“It’s come up.”

“Hmm. Good. Go have fun now.”

“I will. Chat soon.”

“Love you!” Alex shouts into the receiver as he hangs up. 

He flops back down onto the bed, contemplates another few hours of sleep, but realises he’s too wound up and antsy for that. Instead, he takes a quick shower and heads down into the terminal.

Alex quickly learns that the weather has cleared and that he’s on one of the earlier rebooked flights, leaving just before midday and landing just after 8pm at JFK. Considering the luggage retrieval and the drive back to the city, he can make it back home in time for it to technically still be John’s birthday.

He briefly contemplates sending John a later arrival time so that he can surprise him, but then remembers he doesn’t live in a romantic comedy and given his luck recently, something crazy would happen like his flight crashing and John wouldn’t even know he was on it. So he sends the correct info and then hunts down the biggest coffee he can find (at a Starbucks, of course, since SeaTac is still technically Seattle). 

He kills the rest of the morning writing up his notes and ideas from the client meeting. At one point Eliza sends him a selfie from brunch, and John looks sweet and happy and Alex’s heart twists. At a moment like this, it’s impossible to imagine how anything could be more important than being at John’s side. He tries to record the feeling in his memory for the next time he needs to choose between John and his own interests.

Eventually, two coffees and a bunch of queuing later, he boards his flight. Alex vibrates with anxious energy as they get delayed at the gate for fifteen minutes, but the pilot promises to make up the time in the air. They take off eventually, and the flight proceeds through frustratingly clear skies with hardly a bump of turbulence. Alex makes the most of the six hours by finishing up his report, ready to send as soon as he’s back on wi-fi, and then catnapping until the pilot announces their descent. He is just allowing himself to relax when the pilot’s voice comes on the intercom again.

“Ah, sorry folks, some bad news from air traffic control. Due to the increased number of incoming flights, our landing slot has been pushed out a bit. We’re going to circle in a holding pattern until we get an update.” They end up circling for forty-five minutes, Alex gripping his arm rest in impotent frustration, then land at the furthest runway - of course - and spend ages longer taxiing in.

By the time Alex elbows his way off the plane, it’s close to 10pm. He powers his phone up and sees the messages John has been sending him all evening.

_ > John: Dinner was amazing! Heading to the bar now. _

_ > John: Maybe you can still grab us there? _

_ > John: Guessing you must be delayed, message me when you land _

_ > John: Miss you _

_ > John: You back yet?  _

_ > Alex: Hey, just landed. All sorts of delays. You guys still out? _

John replies almost instantly.

_ > John: No, home already _

_ > Alex: Be there as soon as I can. _

He hesitates for a moment, then sends another message.

_ > Alex: Just in case I don’t make it in time _

_ > Alex: Linen closet top shelf _

_ > Alex: Behind the detergent _

_ > Alex: Tell me if you like it when I get home _

John doesn't reply.

The present he got John isn’t anything valuable or flashy - the dinner was supposed to make up for that - but it is something meaningful. Although he isn’t great at always being around, Alex takes a lot of care in choosing the right gifts, and he thought he had landed on the perfect one this year - exactly the right lion plushie he’d been looking around for ages for, soft and floppy, not too realistic but not too cartoonish. He even made it a little tag with the name ‘Alex Jr.’. He’d meant to write a short note about it, but when he sat down, he ended up pouring out several pages of reflections about John and their relationship. It might not have been his best work, but it was heartfelt, and just the sort of thing he thought John wanted to hear and would appreciate.

But now the gift feels a little hollow, childish rather than endearing. Alex wishes he could unsend the message, think it over again, maybe get John something else tomorrow morning or at the airport gift shop or something.

But it’s done.

Alex bulldozes his way through baggage claim and security, flies out to the pick-up area and elbows his way to the first cab he sees. Luckily the traffic is low at this time of night, and they fly across Brooklyn and through the midtown tunnel to Manhattan. Alex steps out of the cab at quarter past eleven, probably the quickest he’s ever made it home from the airport, stumbling with exhaustion but sighing with relief. He pulls his luggage up the steps, rushes through the lobby, jams the elevator button repeatedly until it arrives, then taps his foot anxiously on the ride up. 

When he gets to his floor, finally in front of his own front door, he is suddenly overcome with nerves. He can’t locate their source.

He takes a deep breath and keys open the lock. 

John doesn’t come up to the door to greet him, which is unusual.

Alex walks in hesitantly, drops his keys in the bowl by the door and toes off his shoes. He leaves his luggage by the door and heads into the living room, a lump in his throat.

It takes Alex a moment to absorb the scene. John is sitting on the couch. His legs are tucked up next to him and he’s already changed into comfy clothes, his hair pulled up loosely. John is clutching the lion plushie to his chest with one hand and propping the letter against his knee with the other. Tears are running down his cheeks.

When John looks up, Alex’s heart breaks in ten different ways simultaneously and he rushes over. John stands up to meet him and they collide, holding tightly to each other. This close, Alex can feel the silent sobs heaving in John’s chest. He holds him close, one hand in John’s hair and the other across his back, kissing the side of John’s face and jaw. John grips on tightly to his back, hiding his face in one of Alex’s shoulders.

“Hey, hey, I’m here,” Alex soothes him after a few minutes. “What’s wrong, Jack?”

John doesn’t answer, but pulls away just enough that he can kiss Alex, desperate but not heated. Alex feels how wet his cheeks are. He pulls back and rubs at the tears on one side with his thumb.

“You’re home,” John says through a watery smile. 

“With minutes to spare. I promised, didn’t I?” Alex jokes. “Sooo… you either loved my gift or you hated it, kinda struggling to tell right now.”

John rolls his reddened eyes. “Don’t be an idiot.”

Alex shrugs. “That’s kinda on-brand for me. You should know that by now.” But he pulls John back into a tight, tender hug anyway.

“It’s a lion,” John says unnecessarily from where he is pressed tight to Alex’s chest.

“Yup.”

“And you wrote me a letter.”

Alex pauses for a second, trying to read the tone. “Yeah.”

John coughs a teary laugh. “It’s okay I guess,” he says, though the emotion evident in his whole body belies the words. Alex squeezes tighter. “Though,” John adds, “I'd rather have the real thing.”

Alex pulls him away with a look of mock horror on his face. “You want a  _ real _ lion? Jeez, Jack, I’m not sure he’s going to fit in the spare room…”

John gives him a long-suffering frown. “Stop that. You know what I mean.”

Alex looks down, the humour melting from his face. “I know.” They sit down on the couch, side by side, hands tangled together. “I’m sorry. It was really all supposed to work out this time. Did you have a nice day, at least?”

John sniffles, mastering himself, but doesn’t really meet Alex’s eye. “Yeah, it was pretty good. The dinner was really amazing. I can’t believe you found a spot that does real lowcountry boil. We should go again sometime, I think you’ll like it.” Alex grins and nods encouragingly. Even in New York, it’s hard to find a place that does real South Carolina food the way John remembers it from home. “Had a fun time catching up with Eliza, she’s so sweet. My father called,” and John made an ‘ugh’ sound under his breath, “But luckily it was just as our food was arriving so I could keep it short. He’s- I mean, I guess he’s trying. He asked about you, can you believe it?” 

Alex raises an eyebrow. “Huh. Like in a ‘is the bastard who’s violating my son still alive’ way or in a ‘I’m trying to be a mature adult and take an interest in you’ way?”

John chuckles. “The second one. He said we should think about coming down for Thanksgiving. He actually said ‘both’a y’all’,” John adds, mimicking Henry’s drawl.

“Huh,” Alex repeats.

“Anyway. Drinks were great, a bunch of people showed up. But I guess I just wasn’t feeling up to a big party.” Alex pulls John close, wrapping an arm over his shoulders and kissing the top of his head. His curls smell faintly of shampoo and cigarette smoke. John grabs the stuffed lion and cuddles it close. “The flowers were so nice.”

“Sounds like a good day.”

“Yeah,” John says, his voice soft. “Thank you. Even from far away you know how to make me feel special.”

Alex’s mouth twists into a grimace and he pushes down the flood of emotion, but luckily John can’t see his face. “You deserve it. In fact, you deserve so much better. Not just empty promises and endless apologies.”

John shrugs against his arm, not really agreeing or disagreeing.

“I mean, I  _ try _ ,” Alex says, trying not to sound too defensive. “But things just get away from me sometimes. I get all self-absorbed and I forget that my actions have an impact on other people.”

John mumbles an ‘uh-huh’.

“Sometimes I think… John, you could do so much better. Someone who gives you all the attention you deserve. Someone who actually makes you their number one priority all the time. It-” He pauses, swallows hard. “It terrifies me but because I love you so much, I wonder if maybe I’m not the best person for you.”

At this, John sits up, looking startled. “Are you joking? Please tell me you’re joking.”

Alex furrows his brow, looking away. “Um. Not really?”

John sits up further and grabs both of his hands. The plushie falls off his lap onto the carpet. “Alex.” His voice is low, almost angry. “You know what flowers I like. You convinced a restaurant to make my favourite childhood meal - I still have no idea how you did that. You made everyone send me messages today, got our friends to spend all day with me. I bet you even - did you tell Maddie when to remind my father to call?” Alex smiles wryly into his lap. “See? You put up with my shitty family! You work harder than any human alive to make sure we have what we need. You write me letters that make my cry like a baby. If that also means you sometimes get busy or absorbed in stuff, that’s- well, it’s not great, but it’s part of the deal. It’s not like I want someone hovering around me all day.” 

“How are you the one making  _ me _ feel better?” Alex grumbles. 

“The reason I was sad today is because I  _ missed _ you! Because I love your company. Because you know me better than anyone has ever bothered to since my--” He swallows the silent admission but Alex knows what he means. “In the end it’s not about you being here on one specific day. I know you care because of the million little things you do  _ all the time _ .” He pauses, studying Alex’s face. “I bet you stashed marzipan away somewhere.”

“Disgusting nightmare almond travesty,” Alex mutters in confirmation. “I have no idea how you eat that trash.”

“See?”

“Yeah, okay, I’m not going to argue against myself here,” Alex quips. Then, softer, “Still, I hate the thought that you were sad because of me.”

“Yes, well.” John shrugs, then grins. “I’m happy now.” But Alex sees that the corners of John’s eyes don’t turn up like they do when he’s genuinely smiling.

Alex mock-rolls his eyes. “God, stop being so wonderful for a second, jeez.” John leans in to give him a kiss on the cheek. Some of the tension melts from Alex’s ribcage and he blusters on, hoping to cover up his melancholy mood. “Well, get ready for a whole lot more Alex-time where that came from. I took the day off tomorrow. Wanna go for a drive somewhere?”

“You took the day off?” The smile on John’s face is so sudden and surprised - and real this time - that Alex feels another twinge in his chest. Maybe he really does need to spend more time at home. “Honestly, I’d love to just stay in. Sleep late, watch TV, you know?”

The ever-present whisper in Alex’s mind that tells him he should be  _ doing something _ sends a tingle of anxiety into his belly at the thought of wasting an entire day just lying around. He tries to remember just how much he missed being away from John, but it’s harder now that he’s home. Then he tries to convince himself that he will be  _ doing something _ \- fixing some of what has unravelled between then, building back trust and care. Giving John something he needs, especially now when flickers of a distant sadness start to invade his eyes again. Proving through all his flaws that Alex really, really does love John more than anything.

He pulls John into his arms and kisses the top of his head, suddenly exhausted. “That sounds amazing.”

Love has been enough until now. Alex just hopes it stays that way.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Story title from the Cure's 'Never Enough'.
> 
> Let me know what you think!
> 
> Should there be a part 2?


End file.
